


Lyrium

by TaylorIsBusy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Mentions Of Sex/Violence/Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorIsBusy/pseuds/TaylorIsBusy
Summary: Orion Hawke is tired of being needed by everyone in Kirkwall too much and by Fenris not enough. Hawke is feeling uncertain about their relationship when the elf in question shows up at his window. They both learn something about their connection with one another, particularly about how Fenris' markings respond to Hawke's magic.





	Lyrium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UraminoWaltz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UraminoWaltz/gifts).



> Just a little something I wrote inspired by the idea of Fenris' markings glowing around mage Hawke (something I first saw discussed by Coriphallus on Tumblr) and by this party banter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lnGv9v1Lok (which is what is meant by "what Merrill said today", just for clarification). Orion Hawke is mine and UraminoWaltz's Hawke character for Dragon Age II, whose personality is predominantly humorous/charming based on the dialogue wheel options.

Being a mage and maintaining a relationship with an elf whose opinion of mages was _highly_ unsavory was strange. It wasn’t that Fenris had ever resented Orion for it (hell, the way he treated him, it seemed like he hardly noticed it) or that it created any sort of tension between the two of them...

Honestly, he didn’t care _what_ Fenris thought or said about mages. After all, it was, on the whole, true. He had very valid reasons for feeling the way that he did, and Hawke didn’t exactly disagree with him. He didn’t make a habit of keeping company with others like himself.

Well, they _weren’t_ exactly like himself. He was his own man, not bound by dark rituals or blood magic or demons chanting orders into his head.

It was just that… Well, sometimes things happened. Odd things. And for the most part, they happened in the heat of the moment… quite literally. Once, they’d been getting a little too into… things (things Orion would simply call “Fenris’ face and my face going to war” if he wouldn’t have been slapped for so much as thinking it) and one thing led to another, and somehow, he’d summoned flames and singed the man’s wrist.

You know, the way things usually happen when two people are intimate with each other.

Yet another time, Fenris bit down hard on his neck, and it wasn’t that he didn’t like it (Maker, did he like it), but for some reason, his body reacted by sending a bolt of energy crashing into the wardrobe and sending it careening down to the floor. That had been… loud, to say the least. It had awoken just about everybody in the entire estate and, more importantly, had ruined the moment.

And still that wasn’t the most peculiar thing. The most baffling of them all was that, every once in a while, when he was very close, particularly when his hands were near him, Fenris’ markings seemed to…

Well, to _glow_.

The Lyrium must have reacted with his magic, he supposed. The times when it happened were very few and very rare but… it _had_ happened. He wasn’t simply imagining it.

Stranger still was that it didn’t seem to coincide with anything specific like the other… _incidents_ had. Orion wasn’t caught up in the moment or distracted or startled like the other times. There didn’t seem to be any reason for it at all, and when he pointed it out to Fenris, the elf would fluster and the glow would dissipate once more.

There was something magnificent about it, though, if only for a moment. Fenris despised the idea of belonging to anything or anyone again, and rightfully so (it was incredible that he even liked wearing that ribbon around his wrist and crest on his belt). But sometimes, when Hawke touched him, he felt him go soft and give way like he was okay with being his. Apparently, even his markings thought so.

Orion would give him back the very same, if he wished. They could belong to each other. They practically did, from his point of view, anyways. They were there for each other. They kept each other safe. And sometimes, he swore, he was so fixated on the elf that he could barely think. It felt like everything revolved around him and what he could do to make him happy.

Even if making him happy meant sacrificing; even if it meant getting into danger; even if it meant having to push and push and push until his walls came crashing down and he could let him in without feeling…

What _was_ that feeling, exactly? Hawke wasn’t sure if it was guilt or regret or fear… or _what_ , but it always seemed to stop their interactions short, to make Fenris doubt himself and create space between them- or maybe it wasn’t that he was doubting himself so much as it was that he knew what he wanted, and that was even more frightening to him.

Orion would never, ever, _ever_ hurt him, though- no matter what. He said it often enough and felt that Fenris truly believed him. Yet, something was still holding him back…

He wasn’t clever enough about the feelings of others to figure it out, but it was so disappointing when Fenris pulled away, huffed about something or other, and left Hawke all alone. Wanting him. Missing him.

Missing him so, so desperately.

But he was a patient man and he would never stop trying to make Fenris stay for good, even if it took all of his time and effort from now until the day he died.

Orion stepped into his bedroom, shaking his head and letting out a long, tired breath. There he went, letting his thoughts wander to Fenris again. Even Mother could see how smitten he was with him now, and she was none too shy about mentioning it aloud. She and nearly everyone else around him claimed that they saw the way Fenris looked at him.

But… he wasn’t sure if that were true. He himself looked at Fenris like he was gawking at a wayward kitten and he wanted to give it a big ol’ smooch on the nose. Fenris, though… He always seemed to be distracting himself from Hawke, like he was getting too close to the fire and he needed to take a step back each time something too good happened between them. Honestly, he wasn’t certain that Fenris was all that enamored with him at all.

Maybe he simply wanted the company. Maybe he had merely given into Hawke’s rather… straightforward advances. Maybe all that they had with one another was temporary, just for the moment, before Fenris moved on with the rest of his life.

Orion rubbed at his forehead, far too tired to dwell on such things right now. He kicked his boots onto the rug (they were filthy; he should have left them at the front door) and made his way to his writing desk. He eyeballed his open journal as he took off his gloves and set them down beside it.

Varric had taken the liberty of adding some rather generous… embellishments again in very bold lettering. He spent too much time trying to make his everyday goings-on sound like some awe-inspiring, age-old legend. He could see it now, Hawke Buys Carrots For His Mother going down in history, generation after generation. He really had no idea whether he was doing it for Orion’s glory or for his own, but everyone seemed to find their way into his notebook sooner or later- even Isabela and her extremely _crude_ drawings.

His company needed to be more careful with his personal belongings. They all knew what sorts of things were written in his diary. Things about a certain handsome elf.

Orion would have made more of an effort to keep those details a secret were he not so utterly shameless. If any of his friends found themselves reading something much too personal, that was their own fault for snooping around.

He considered writing now, but he didn’t quite have the energy tonight. Instead, he took a seat on the edge of his bed, not bothering to take off the rest of his clothing. That sounded like far too much work at the moment, and besides, it was cold in the mansion and his robes were thin.

Hawke spent a long time hunched over, arms resting on his knees, watching the fireplace and thinking. Just thinking. Every so often, his mind would go empty, and he would simply enjoy the silence as he studied the flames licking about the kindling.

Come to think of it, he wasn’t exactly sure who had lit the fire. Perhaps Mother had done it in anticipation of his arrival, or… Sandal could have been messing around with it. He had a habit of getting into dangerous things around the estate.

… And there he was, thinking again! That was pesky. He wished that he could lock his brain up and throw away the key and just… be there, calmly and quietly. Unfortunately, the only way to accomplish that would be to go to sleep, and he wasn’t that particular sort of tired right now.

He always had so much on his plate at one time. Constantly, it was Hawke this and Hawke that and “Hawke, you _have_ to help me, there’s no one else in all of this sorry town who can solve my _stupid_ problem!”

Why was it always him? Why didn’t a damned day go by in this city that he didn’t have some sort of business to take care of for somebody else? If things were peaceful, just once, he could spend some time alone…

Or some time with Fenris, were he willing. All day and all night and however long he wanted. They could lie there and rot away in his bed until they were nothing but bones for all Orion cared.

He was still thinking too much, but this kind of thinking, he didn’t really mind. It was comforting to him somehow, even if Fenris himself wasn’t here.

… Then he heard footsteps- behind him, from the direction of the window. They were distinctive, small and stealthy and thumping quietly against the floor.

Uh- _huh_. Think of the devil and he doth appear, right?

“You could have used the front door, you know,” Orion said mockingly without so much as bothering to peek behind him. If this turned out to be an ambush by thieves or something, he was going to be quite embarrassed by that little comment… before taking down each and every one of them, of course.

“I… thought you might not answer.” Ah, so it _was_ Fenris. “It’s late… and I didn’t exactly want to be answering to your mother.”

“Ah. So of all the monsters we’ve faced in our travels,” Hawke chuckled, “now I know which you fear the most.”

He glanced back over his shoulder and smiled, catching sight of the sheepish elf shutting the window behind him. It was life-giving just to see his face right now.

“She approves of you, you know. You even managed to coax a smile out of her.” Orion’s eyes drifted down to study the floor. “Though I’m not so sure she would appreciate you tracking mud all over the rug. Maker, your feet are filthy.”

Fenris propped himself against the wall and pressed a dirty foot to it like he didn’t plan on budging anytime soon, nor did he care about smearing soil all over the Hawke Estate.

“That is… a consequence of climbing in through your window, yes,” he grumbled defensively.

They were both silent for a moment. Hawke didn’t comment yet, knowing better than to poke an angry bear.

“I was thinking of you,” Fenris added unashamedly, as if daring Hawke to just _try_ and taunt him for it.

He took the bait.

“Perhaps you were,” he said, a sly grin slinking across his lips like a snake, “but I’m _sure_ I was thinking of you more.”

Fenris huffed and crossed the room to where Hawke sat. “Why must you make _everything_ a competition?” he griped and crossed his arms over his chest.

Orion stood to his feet and leaned an arm against the bedpost, gazing at the elf with lidded eyes.

“Because you like me so much,” he answered with a smirk, inching a bit closer to tap his knuckles against Fenris’ chest piece, “a second story window couldn’t even keep you out.”

Fenris was quiet for a minute, staring at the taller man like he might either argue or pull him into a kiss. Orion was never keen enough to know which it was going to be; it was kind of exciting. He was usually hoping for the latter, though.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, and much more vulnerable than it had been before. “A thousand armies couldn’t keep me out, Hawke.”

Orion’s first reaction was to beam, dumbly (he couldn’t help it) and lean in closer.

Maybe he didn’t always have to worry about what Fenris really thought of him. Maybe he didn’t need to dwell on whether or not he was as important to the man as he was to him. Maybe Fenris was easier to decipher than he’d thought.

“There I go again! What is _wrong_ with me?”

… And then he was storming across the room and flailing his hands about like an agitated mother dragon.

Well, at least that was part of his charm, Hawke supposed. That was one of many, many reasons he’d been so fond of the elf in the first place- he was raw and unpredictable and honest and… a bit confusing at times. It simply meant that he had to get to work undoing all of the strings around him until the truth came unraveling out of his mouth.

That was yet another job for Hawke, but he didn’t mind this one, not in the slightest. The rewards made it damn well worth it.

He chased after Fenris, following him to the desk and placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. He was facing away from him, breathing much too heavily. He seemed quite frustrated, Maker only knew why… but he hadn’t pushed Hawke away, not this time.

“What are you talking about, Fenris?”

He sighed, defeated very quickly, and his shoulders slumped. Yet, he still refused to turn around and look at Orion, settling on having a staring match with the desk instead.

“You,” Fenris muttered, so low he almost hadn’t caught it. “You’re what’s wrong with me.”

Hawke didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say, anyhow. He was too busy praying to the Maker that this wasn’t another schism between the two of them, that Fenris wouldn’t shove him away again until he inevitably came back, stealing in through the window in the middle of the night.

He spun around to face Orion, gripping the desk with his gauntlets and relaxing against it. The way his fingers moved, powerful and nimble and somehow delicate, left Hawke breathless sometimes.

Fenris continued in light of Hawke’s perplexed silence. “Everything that you have done for me… Everything that you’ve said to me…” He let his eyes rise up to meet Orion’s. He looked guarded, but gentle, like he could be easily persuaded to open up. “You always know how to get to me, don’t you? Your kindness… it’s genuine. I know that… and I know that you do the same for everyone, but…” –his mouth tensed, forming a hint of a dimple- “I’m different.”

Orion smirked. “Like ‘you’ve seen my very private birthmark’ different?” he teased, although he probably should have been more serious at the moment. Sometimes, sarcasm was all that he knew.

It wasn’t even an entirely truthful statement. To be honest, before Fenris had come into his life, Hawke had done a lot of…

Dealing in…

Dancing with…

Negotiating…

Well, he’d seen a lot of men with their pants down.

But things were _not_ like that anymore. He didn’t have to use sex as a means of getting things done nowadays, especially considering that he had a highly capable crew (including a certain elf with an affinity for ripping out hearts) to back him. Hawke didn’t have the heart for such things now, and hadn’t since the first day he’d met Fenris.

From the second he’d seen the man’s face and heard his voice and caught his gaze, it had all been over. It was like flipping the book of his life to the first page and learning his own name. Whatever Orion had done before then… whatever he’d aspired before then… whoever he _was_ before then… it was all gone. Meaningless.

Meeting Fenris was like opening his eyes for the first time.

Perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that Hawke was pretty much the only person who had ever seen the hidden elements of Fenris’ body, at least since…

Well, he’d seen the scars on his thighs. He wasn’t _that_ naïve. He heard the way he talked about his former…

The word “master” turned his stomach, so he tried not to even think it.

“No, Hawke,” Fenris spat, rolling his eyes at the taller man. “Like ‘I haven’t exactly made things easy for you’ different. I gave you such a hard time for being a mage-”

“Understandably-”

“And I’ve involved you in all of my problems-”

“Your problems are my problems, Fenris-”

“And I have never done anything to repay you. Nothing of value, anyways.” He looked away and shrugged his shoulders weakly. “Why do you continue to do so much for me?”

Hawke smiled, innocent as could be, the halfwit kind of smile he would always inevitably end up flashing when they were together. Fenris turned to his brain to absolute sludge. “Because I want to,” he chuckled warmly.

When Fenris’ eyes met his again, they were narrow and cold. He only seemed to be made more aggravated by the comment.

“There you go again,” he said rather harshly, but didn’t yell, flicking a hand through the air. “I say a thousand words to you and you say _four_ to me and suddenly you’ve solved everything.” He ran the claws of his gauntlet across his forehead, burying his face in his hand. He didn’t sound impressed, but rather, exasperated with him. “I don’t understand how you do that, Hawke.”

That was a surprise. Orion didn’t think he was half as intelligent as the man made him out to be. He was practically a ten-year-old child running around with highly-explosive magic and ironclad armor. The only things he knew better than he knew the lines Fenris’ markings made all down his body were fighting and smooth-talking.

He took a step closer to the elf, cautious, but entirely ready to wrap him in his arms and lift him off of the ground. He’d never been too skilled at restraining himself and being… what Mother would call _mature_ in these situations.

“Fenris,” he breathed softly, like his name was going to break if he said it too loud, and pulled the elf’s hand from his face, “what is this about?”

Fenris sighed and peered down to the floor, but didn’t pull his hand from Hawke’s grasp an inch. As a matter of fact, if he weren’t imagining things, he could have sworn he felt the man’s fingers begin to wrap around his own.

“I always make a fool of myself around you,” he mumbled, then huffed again. “I don’t know why I even came here.”

Orion’s eyebrows shot up through his hairline and his eyes went wide with realization. Ah, he was beginning to put the pieces together here…

“Is this about what Merrill said today?”

That seemed to be the correct answer, because Fenris gave as low nod, still avoiding making eye contact. “I suppose I just thought I’d been hiding it better. I thought I was better disciplined than that. I shouldn’t be…”

He trailed off, like he didn’t even know what he was trying to say.

Hawke wanted to tell him just how ridiculous that sounded. If anyone did a proper job of being confusing and secretive about their emotions, it was Fenris. Orion was the one who had been gawking at him with stars in his eyes and butterflies in the pit of his stomach since day one. He was always so distracted with him, he was honestly surprised he hadn’t walked straight off of a cliff yet.

He lowered his hands to Fenris’ hips and rested them there, ghosting at first, then touching him wholeheartedly when he didn’t flinch or shout at him.

“Well, you didn’t exactly protest much,” he accused him with a crooked sort of grin. He was so, _so_ going to get slapped in the face.

Fenris, thankfully, did not slap him. He merely stared ahead for the longest time, not so much at the ground anymore- more at Hawke’s chest. He was glaring through him like he wasn’t even there, like he was transparent and Fenris was watching the fireplace behind his body.

When he spoke once more, his voice was gentler than Hawke had ever heard it.

“How could I?” he muttered, then glanced up with those same glassy eyes he’d given Orion the first time they’d kissed. “She wasn’t wrong about anything.”

There was really no need for Fenris to be so upset. It wasn’t that big of a deal that Merrill had noticed-

_Wait._

_Hadn’t she said…?_

Orion’s heart pounded in his ears like a war drum. He struggled to open his mouth to speak; it felt as if his throat had been sewn shut.

“Fenris… I… do you?”

“Don’t be dense, Hawke. I know you’re thick-skinned,” he scoffed, _almost_ smiled, and reached up to brush Orion’s bangs out of his face, “but your head can’t be _that_ hard.”

“I-I just… I wasn’t sure if you… I thought maybe… when this was all over…” Hawke exhaled, long and slow, allowing himself a second to think. Words. He needed to remember how to use words. “Sometimes I find myself thinking that, no matter how tightly I hold on,” –he clutched Fenris’ hips a little stronger- “you’re going to slip through my fingers and disappear.”

Fenris finally smiled, full and honest, and rested his hand on Hawke’s cheek. Somehow, the frigid metal against his skin actually felt warm. He let out a long sigh, like Orion was acting ridiculous for worrying and he wanted him to know that everything was all right.

“I will remain at your side until the day you command me to leave.” He leaned in closer. His expression was so incredibly candid and his eyes were shining brighter than the light of the moon peeling in through the window. “I am, and always have been, in love with you, Orion Hawke.”

… Hawke was going to die.

His flesh was going to burn off and he was going to fall to the ground in a big heap of bones right then and there. He was so flushed that, were that to happen, his skull would likely still be blushing.

He couldn’t breathe. His blood was pumping so fast, his heart was going to shatter into pieces, and Fenris would have to tear it out of him and fix it.

He must have fallen asleep on the bed earlier, listening to the roar of the fire, because there was no way in all of creation that what was happening right now was real.

He’d said his name! His _first name. Fenris_ had said his _first name._ That… That had never happened before!

Maker, he just… He couldn’t… He didn’t know what… He…

This was the first time in a long time that he didn’t have the right words to say- or any, for that matter.

“Hawke? Hawke…” Fenris tapped a finger against the man’s temple. “Are you still with us in the realm of the living?”

Truly, he didn’t know. He couldn’t answer that question. He felt like he was going to throw up, but… in a good way- like flowers would come tumbling out of his mouth and spill all over the floor until the entire room was flooded with them.

“I…” –he drew in a sharp breath- “I love you more.”

Fenris bit at his lip and, by the Maker, Orion actually coaxed a sincere laugh out of him. He’d hardly ever heard that before. It was completely magical to him, and he was the actual mage here.

“For the love of-” Fenris chuckled again, wrapping his arms around Orion’s neck and bringing him in close. “It’s not a competition, Hawke!”

Hawke didn’t know what more to say. He was sure he’d come out of his having forgotten how to speak and read and write- he’d likely even forget his own name, but he didn’t care one bit. Fenris was absolutely beautiful, and warm, and smelled like clove and pine, and he was _laughing_ , and he _loved him_ , and Hawke didn’t give a damn about anything else in all of existence.

So he did the only thing he was confident he _could_ do right now and kissed him, lingering as long as he could without suffocating. He slid his hands up to Fenris’ sides and gripped him there, sitting him up on the desk and pulling him in until he was close enough that Orion could fit comfortably between his legs.

Things were spilling off of the desk and onto the floor, but hell if it mattered. He didn’t care if ink soaked into the rug and his journal was ripped to shreds- not one tiny fractal. Right now, nothing outside of himself and Fenris and this moment was even real.

He ducked away to take a break, then dove right back into kissing Fenris over and over and over again until they both fell into a soft, steady sort of rhythm that was all instinct, all knowing. He knew the shape of Fenris’ body and the curve of his lips and the paths of his markings and-

His markings.

They were glowing again…

… In all of the places close to Hawke’s hands.

Orion pulled back, leaving the elf looking stunned and confused and a little disappointed until he noticed what was happening to him. He startled, only for a second, then groaned as if this were something that happened to him at least once a day.

“I’m-” –he cleared his throat nervously- “um, sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why do they do that?” he interrupted Fenris, scarcely hearing what he’d said at all. He was much too focused on hovering his hand above the man’s skin and watching the blue light of his markings follow it wherever it moved.

“Well, I assume the Lyrium responds to your touch, considering your… status.”

“But…” –Hawke raised an eyebrow- “why now? Why not always?”

Fenris lowered his gaze, rolling his tongue in his cheek. “I am… not entirely sure, myself. This never happened until I met you. They seem to react with you every time that I’m…” He hesitated, his expression tensing. “Every time that I…”

He grunted in his throat and met Hawke’s eyes.

“Every time that I forget myself when I’m with you and I… get weak. And all I want is for you to touch me.”

That was… quite straightforward for Fenris.

He could be like that once in a blue moon, though, when all of his barriers were broken. Sometimes he said things so sweet and so intimate and so… hackneyed that Hawke thought he must have imagined them.

If he understood the man correctly, he meant that, more or less, his markings lit up when he was around Orion and… longing for affection. Which meant that right now…

That was unbelievably cute. It was satisfying to know that it was Hawke who made that happen- not the magic in his fingertips alone, but the way that he made Fenris feel, and-

Fenris was _in love with him!_

This had to be, no competition, the most important day of his entire life, rivaled only by meeting the elf in the first place. If he died tomorrow, that would be all right, because he’d already achieved everything he wanted. He had it all right here.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he chimed, gliding a hand around Fenris’ back and tugging him a bit closer.

“I’m not-”

“I think it’s beautiful.”

Fenris didn’t respond, but raised a questioning eyebrow at the larger man.

“I think _you’re_ beautiful,” Orion added, stating it confidently, without so much as an ounce of reluctance. He meant it more than he’d meant any other words he’d spoken since his birth.

The elf’s face flushed worse than Hawke had ever seen it. His cheeks had gone so red that, for a moment, he suspected he might have burnt him again. He wrapped his arms around Orion’s neck and wrenched him in hard, pinning his legs to either side of him.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d suspect he was about to be assassinated right now.

Fenris pressed his forehead against Orion’s with such pressure that he nearly head-butted him.

“I know that there are… things that I’ve said to you, and things that I’ve done when I was upset, that have led me to push you away when I need you the most,” he whispered, the breaths of his words whirling against Hawke’s lips like a specter, “but I am all yours, Hawke. You don’t have to be careful with me anymore.”

This was…

This was most definitely a dream.

How else could Fenris have known all of the insecurities that had been eating away at Orion and put each and every one of them to bed without so much as asking him what was wrong? How else could he be acting so uncharacteristically affectionate?

“And I am yours,” Hawke breathed, his fingers curling against the man, looking for somewhere, anywhere to dig into and never let him go, “so _you_ can stop acting like I’m doing you a favor every time I touch you.”

He felt Fenris’ skin stiffen underneath his hands.

“It’s just-!” he stammered, then lowered his voice. “Out of everyone you’ve met, everyone who is _clearly_ after your heart… you chose me. Even though I’m a runaway slave… squatting in my former master’s mansion… having you teach me to read and write. That confounds me, Hawke.”

Orion stood up straight, distancing himself from Fenris to get a proper look at him, but keeping his arms firmly around his waist.

“I didn’t _choose_ you, Fenris,” he chided him, raising his brow. “There was never any _choice_. There’s no one else for me. It’s not as if I’m going to change my mind about that like I’m… trading out a staff. I’m not that fickle. The way I feel about you…”

He slid Fenris nearer, so much so that he’d likely topple off of the edge of the table if not for Hawke’s body supporting him.

“It’s bigger than _all_ of this. You are the most important thing…” _Thing_ didn’t sound right; it sounded possessive.

“ _Person_ ,” he corrected himself, “in the world to me.”

He could have sworn he saw tears forming in Fenris’ eyes, but didn’t dare mention it. That would do nothing but embarrass him. He’d never, ever seen him cry before- not about Danarius, not about Hadriana, not about his past or his memories or his struggles during their reading lessons…

Only about Hawke, and not in a bad way.

“I can’t talk like you do,” he murmured, sounding choked up.

“You know me, Fenris,” Orion laughed with a shake of his head, “you could tell me to rot in a hole and I’d blush.”

Fenris scoffed dryly. “You’re a complete fool.”

“Only for you.”

Before the elf could make another snide remark, Orion got a proper grip on his hips and hoisted him up. He slipped a hand underneath him to support him as he lifted him into his arms and backed away from the desk. Fenris let out a small gasp, but quickly gave into it, wrapping his legs around Hawke’s waist.

“Oh no,” Orion groaned, feigning some struggling noises and tipping Fenris back a bit, “you’re too heavy.” He bent one of his knees suddenly, pretending to trip for a second, earning a startled jump out of the man. “I can’t possibly hold you up.”

All right, so they both knew Hawke lifting Fenris was like an ogre lifting a quill pen, but he liked when Fenris laughed and wanted to make it happen again.

He earned a small one, which was immediately stifled in his throat as he raised a stern eyebrow. “You’re an ass,” he sighed, but nonetheless, he was smiling and playing with the hair at Orion’s neck.

“You love me,” Hawke nearly sang. “You said so yourself.”

“Too late to take it back?”

Oh, Fenris could act as annoyed as he wished, but he was still so clearly happy. He was absolutely glowing.

“Definitely,” he chuckled and pulled the elf into a kiss, holding him tightly to his body.

They fell into a pattern again, silent other than the sound of their breathing and their lips meeting over and over again. Were Hawke a weaker man, he might have gone limp in the knees and sent them both crashing to the floor just from the feeling of Fenris’ hands around his collar and lips against his own.

He should have locked the door. He really, really should have, but there was no one awake at this hour, and if somebody had an urgent matter, they would probably (hopefully) knock. Besides, he didn’t want to take so much as one meager step away from Fenris right now, or ever again for the rest of his days. Everything else, all of the other people in his life, all of the citizens of Kirkwall who all needed one thing or another, all of the pathetic jobs people had for him, all of the glory and action and silver to be had out there, be damned.

Hawke made his way to the bed and set Fenris down, but didn’t urge him onto his back or make any moves to hover over him. He didn’t want to force him into anything he didn’t want right now. He simply sat him there, on the edge of the mattress, so that he could gaze at him and admire each and every detail of him and run his fingers through his snowy white hair.

“Do you want to… stay and…?”

“Oh, stop being so considerate, Hawke,” Fenris hummed and slid a hand up the taller man’s chest. “You know what I want.”

Orion ran his teeth over his bottom lip and made… what Merrill had referred to as “sad puppy eyes” at Fenris. He stood apart from him, just as far as he could bear without feeling cold and anxious and lonely.

“Not until you say it again,” he muttered as he brushed his knuckles against the elf’s cheek.

“You are…” –Fenris narrowed his eyes- “a shrewd negotiator, Hawke. Your cruelty knows no bounds.”

“Hey, you know me, Fenris.” Orion waggled an eyebrow at him. “I’m the scourge of Kirkwall.”

Fenris faked an angry little growl. He sounded more like a distressed cat caught in a tree than anything else.

“You disgust me,” he hissed, ducking in close and glaring daggers at Orion. Then, with a resigned scoff, he sat back on the bed to get a good look at him. He rested a hand over the man’s shoulder, the other holding his jaw and touching at his skin. “Fine. I love you, Hawke.”

He probably wasn’t going to hear that all too often, so it was best to get his fill out it now while it was still fresh. No matter how many times Fenris _did_ decide to say it, though, he was never, ever going to tire of hearing it.

“I love you, too, Fenris,” he said softly, studying the sky-blue glow of the elf’s markings resonating all the way up his arms and to his neck. “I always have and I always, always, _always_ will.”

Hawke smirked when he earned a chuckle from the elf, holding his hips and lowering his head to plant another long, breathless kiss on his lips. He didn’t plan to stop for the rest of the night. Even when Fenris’ mouth was bruised, he’d move on and kiss and bite every inch of him until he was so completely covered in Orion Hawke that nobody else was even going to be able to look in his direction again.

Yes, being with Fenris was strange for him, and sometime tonight, he’d most likely end up freezing the bed sheets or sending lightning crashing into the ceiling or something ridiculous like that… but it was comforting to know that the both of them could be equally embarrassing in the ways that their bodies reacted to the other’s touch. And if Fenris loved him, then it didn’t matter if Hawke accidentally burned down the entire city.

Because Fenris was still going to be there in the ashes.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if there are any mistakes or typos! I tried to revise and reread it a few times to make sure it's coherent for the most part.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. ♡


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